


Hunger

by Ren_Kier



Category: Sky: Children of the Light (Video Game)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26058562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_Kier/pseuds/Ren_Kier
Summary: Their teeth ached.When the moth asked other Skylets what it was like to hunger, they had only gotten blank looks in return.“Do you mean, to crave light?” an older Skylet had gently asked.No. That was not what they meant at all.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	1. I Need To Eat

**Author's Note:**

> I got my wisdoms pulled and eating is hard, which means my jaw hurts and my stomach is in so much pain. So I’m kind of just venting rn.
> 
> No real plot yet. Sorry about that. Also people die and there’s some description of killing. Not graphic or anything, but be careful when you read.

“What do you eat?” they blurt out one day.

As a young moth who hadn’t decided anything - not their name, or their favorite color, or their favorite realm - they were always full of questions. And this question has been on their mind for a while, since the Skylets who kindly helped them fly and collect lights never seemed to do anything else.

The Skylet who was holding their hand stopped quite abruptly. They worried they had somehow offended her, but she only turned back, her face full of confusion. “Eat?” she repeated, as if not understanding the question.

“You know... when we get hungry.”

The Skylet cocked her head, smiling gently. “Oh, you mean when we run out of light? I suppose you might not have noticed yet. All we need to recharge is a light source.”

And then she smiled.

The moth mumbled out a soft, “oh,” and didn’t correct her.

Maybe she just hadn’t understood. Maybe the moth should’ve explained it better.

But in the back of their mind, a worrying thought emerged - _What if it’s not normal to be hungry?_

The moth knew what hunger was. It was what the Skylets called the Dark Dragons who swept down on unsuspecting children. It was the thing felt by the fish when they were taken out of the water - or was that called something else?

Above all, however, the moth knew that their ancestors had eaten. It was shown in the memories of the lingering spirits that all Skylets met on their travels.

So, surely, “hunger” was something all creatures felt.

* * *

Their teeth ached.

It seemed as if the moth wouldn’t last another day without sinking their teeth into - _something_. They’ve watched baby Dragons (krills, some Skylets call them) start gnawing on anything and everything at a certain age. The Skylets call it teething. Some who study the Dragons say that when the teeth grows in, it hurts, and the Dragons will bite things to relive the pain.

But surely that’s not what’s happening to them.

They, like all Skylets, are born complete. Not a limb out of place. Skylets don’t grow teeth. And Skylets, apparently, don’t eat - instead, Skylets live off of light and air.

A romantic idea, in concept.

The claws of hunger in the moth’s stomach convinced them otherwise.

_What should I eat?_ the moth thought desperately. They had tried everything that was “normal,” from collecting candle lights to burning the Darkness. They had even dared to try a roasted crab, a remnant from older times. No matter what they ate, though, they couldn’t manage to fill the aching void inside of them.

The moth began to cry.

Then, from behind them, they heard a voice ask, “Are you alright?”

The moth turned to see - a Skylet.

This Skylet wore a red cape, a simple mask, and his hair was tied neatly back in a ponytail. He grinned at the moth. “Do you need help?”

In a few moments, the moth remembered that they were deep in the Forest. The rain would drown out all sound, and would discourage others from coming nearby. The moth opened their mouth, feeling their teeth practically _pulse_ with need.

”Yes.”

The Skylet grabbed their hand and pulled them along. “I’m Oval,” he said conversationally, guiding them beneath the lifted roots of a tree. “Who’re you?”

”I-“

All of the moth’s senses were screaming at them. Deep down, they’d started to suspect that this was what they were. A _monster_.

”Well, I’m-“

And yet...

”I am-“

They were so, _so-_

_“Hungry,_ ” the moth practically growled, yanking the Skylet’s arm close. They opened their mouth and sank their teeth into Oval’s wrist, almost sobbing at the relief it brought to their body.

Oval’s eyes widened. He yelled and fought to get away, but the moth was starving.

And hunger is a desperation stronger than fear. A need that overcomes one’s horror. The moth cried at the awful sounds the Skylet’s body made, and wept at the way the hunger in their stomach was finally, _finally_ sated.

There is no blood in a Skylet’s body, not in the way blood ran through other creatures.

What stained the moth’s lips and fingers, running into the grass and mixing with rainwater, was a pale, golden ichor that softly glowed in the dim light.

* * *

”Don’t go too deep into the Forest,” people began to whisper. “Stick to the paths, to the sunlit areas and the well-traveled ruins. Don’t stray too far.”

Those that accidentally travel too far and encounter nothing will often say, ”There’s something in there. Something dangerous.”

”Shadows, or monsters. Something no one’s ever seen before,” the rumors claim, “except we can’t say for sure, because no one has ever seen it and come back... at least not alive.”

And the rumors slowly became a horrifying reality.

As time passed, pieces were being found. Things that friends would recognize, like masks, or clothing. Those friends would tearfully tell people about the Skylet it belonged to, and beg others to help them find the lost child.

More often than not, there’s nothing left at all.

The tranquil Forest, which was known for its cold rain and dim lighting, began to be unconsciously avoided by many. Moths on their first journey through would hurry, barely glancing at the wonders around them, for the shadows were thick and the stories numerous. Veteran Skylets traveled through Forest less and less, and none dared to go there simply for fun.

And then a new rumor started, one that sent a shiver down the listeners’ backs. It said, “Ignore the shadows. Speak to no one. And whatever you do, for Eden’s sake, don’t follow the lights.”

* * *

Oval was the first to go.

The moth knew something was wrong with them. Skylets didn’t feel hunger. And even their ancestors didn’t hunger in the way the moth did, for they ate creatures from the land, while the moth... they hungered for their own people.

Or, perhaps the moth wasn’t a proper Skylet in the first place. Maybe the moth was a monster who happened to look like a Skylet.

The moth tried to resist the hunger at first. They practiced well, and could handle the vicious spikes of pain that starvation caused. They clenched their teeth, they practiced their smile, and for a while they were able to be among other Skylets without impulsively lunging at the first limb they saw.

Of course, they couldn’t last forever.

So the moth pretended to be innocent. Naive. They let a Skylet with a yellow cape and cute braids drag them into forest, ducking under mushrooms and laughing as they splashed through rivers.

The Skylet was called Aria. She was young, too, but she was so splendidly different from the moth that they were content to call her the senior of the pair.

And in the hollows of a tree, the moth snapped her neck and ate her.

The moth did this once a month. Even waiting that long was agony, but the moth couldn’t help the awful, sick feeling that rose up in them whenever they even contemplated eating.

They lured in more Skylets. Ethan. Naj. Bell. Even a couple of nameless moths like themself.

After a few months, the moth stopped learning their names. Stopped holding back, and started eating whenever they were hungry. It still felt - evil.

But they started to get used to it. Felt themself numbing to the horror of it all. And slowly, the moth became good at it. There were so many places to hide in the Forest. So much noise to drown out their cries.

The moth hungered and hungered, and began to stop keeping company with other Skylets altogether.

They could feel themself turning vicious. A little feral, if they were being honest. The ache wasn’t going away, no matter how much they ate. It dulled at times, but it never fully disappeared except in the act of eating.

Once, the moth wondered what they would do if they accidentally ate all the Skylets.

They laughed the idea off. They could never do that. There were so many Skylets to begin with, and so many being born each day! As if the moth could devour that much in such a short time.

And still, the moth felt restless.

They kept their plain, unimpressive outfit the same as it ever was. Stains hardly showed on brown, after all. But the moth one day found a lantern, and when lit it could light candles, burn Darkness, and - most importantly - attract Skylets.

The moth sometimes heard whispers of themself.

”A monster.” “Don’t follow the lights.” “Skylets missing.”

They took it as a good sign. No one seemed to know who they were. And the moth was determined to keep it that way.


	2. I’m Not Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should give them a name so I can stop calling them “the moth,” but I can’t think of anything.
> 
> Their pronouns are they/them btw, in case you were wondering.

The moth gnawed on a bit of roasted krill, disconsolately looking out over the sands of the Wasteland. They were quite good at surviving. They’d never been able to enter Eden - and now suspected that they never could - but they were as skilled as a season veteran at this point. They feared nothing.

And, in turn, they were uninterested in everything.

Nothing could surprise them anymore. And although the seasons came and went, each with unique quirks and new lands, the moth couldn’t bring themself to attend the festivities with everyone else.

What would they do at the seasons? Collect clothes? They already had all they needed.

What could the spirits offer them? Different expressions? What was the point without any friends to play with?

 _And that,_ the moth thought, _is the crux of the problem._ Life was so terribly boring without another creature to change things up. The moth has seen other Skylets take care of pets, and knows that there’s always someone willing to be friends, but it’s quite hard to make those kinds of commitments when every living thing looks so much like _food_.

The moth bared their teeth - which, after months of eating, were noticeably sharp if one looked closely - irritated at the familiar twinge of pain caused by the mere thought of food.

This, too, was part of what made life hard to live when everything was uninteresting. Without distractions, the moth only had the ache to focus on, and it was hardly a happy way to pass the time.

They sighed and stood, clutching their cheek in a vain attempt to dull the throbbing. Cold water helped a little, they’d found, but they couldn’t go swimming all the time, could they? That would be ridiculous, not to mention cold and soggy...

”Hello!”

Taken by surprise, the moth whirled around to see a Skylet standing behind them. This Skylet grinned, his pure white cape and loose hair glaringly out of place in the darkness of Wasteland. “Are you okay?” the Skylet asked, his gaze on the moth’s hand and cheek.

”Oh, I, um, I’m fine,” the moth stammered in reply, unprepared for conversation.

“You sure? That looks like it hurts,” the Skylet pressed.

The moth took a moment to wonder if the ache had somehow bruised their skin. If the hunger was physically marking their body. But the thought was silly. “No, I’m alright, really,” the moth said, lowering their hand.

The loss of pressure on their cheek caused the ache to flare up, but the moth gritted their teeth and stared the other Skylet straight in his eyes, refusing to show signs of pain. “What are you doing around here?” the moth asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Hm... Just looking out for others. Wasteland is dangerous, after all.” He paused for a moment before saying, off-handedly, “Well, Forest is almost as dangerous, nowadays.”

The moth felt a jolt of fear at being recognized somehow, but then remembered that _everyone_ spoke of Forest these days. After all, other than getting caught in the downpour, there had never been anything to fear from that realm before.

”Yes. Quite,” the moth said curtly.

The Skylet strode forward, offering his hand in greeting. “I’m Lithe,” he said warmly. “What’s your name?”

”Oh. I don’t have one yet,” the moth admitted, shaking the Skylet’s hand.

”That’s alright. Everyone figures out who they are at different points in life. What matters is that we enjoy it, right?”

”Yeah. That’s... true.”

”Want to come along with me for a while?” Lithe offered suddenly. “I’ve nothing to do anyway, and I can help you find spirits and winged lights if you need.”

The moth shook their head. “Oh, no, that’s alright, I’ve already... uh.”

They suddenly remembered that their wings were only four stars strong, and they were supposed to be posing as an inexperienced moth to ward off suspicion. The moth fumbled for an explanation, and managed to say, “I’ve already... traveled quite a bit today. I’m, uh, I’m just resting. For now.”

”I see. That makes sense!” Lithe appeared to think for a moment before saying brightly, “Why don’t I light your star in my constellation? That way we can accompany each other some other time!”

”Um... Sure,” the moth agreed reluctantly. They might meet again, after all, and how awkward would that be? Better to let this Lithe place their star in a constellation, where they would surely be lost among dozens of other lights.

* * *

That was the plan, anyway.

But somehow, Lithe kept popping up frequently, seeming to fill the moth’s awkward silence with easy conversation. Lithe wasn’t unpleasant to be around. The moth wouldn’t have minded the company one bit, if it weren’t for the tiny problem of the moth’s diet.

After all, lanterns were still kind of rare. And when the moth went hunting - their mind shied away from the cold, callous word, but it described their activities far too well - they brought their lantern to light the path and lure Skylets into the shadows. If Lithe saw them use their lantern too often, he might get suspicious.

Lithe was easygoing and talkative, but the moth hardly thought he was stupid. And so the moth wondered if maybe they should eat the Skylet, just to shut him up.

Except Lithe had ten stars. And was clearly a Skylet who had been around for a long time. As much as the moth felt they could handle many things, they knew that, physically, they weren’t very strong. When they went hunting, they chose carefully, and relied on surprise and speed to overwhelm their targets.

Lithe - who could now sense them - would be a lot harder than their usual prey.

And yet, the moth could feel the pain grow. Even worse, they were feeling weak, their limbs slowing and growing shaky with every passing day. They were so _hungry_ , and they had to eat sometime. Why not eat Lithe?

It might even be fun. A challenge.

 _Besides,_ the moth thought privately, _What’s the worst that could happen? I die? At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with this ache for the rest of my life..._

* * *

When the moth finally agreed to join Lithe for a flight, they brought their lantern.

They couldn’t quite figure out why. After so much time spent worrying about Lithe connecting the dots, here they were, flaunting their lantern about. The moth ground their teeth together as they stared hungrily at Lithe’s neck.

The Skylet took little notice, intent on taking them through the Valley. He laughed and spoke at times, but mostly the wind filled the silence between them.

The moth waited.

They waited as Lithe took them down the slopes, and onto the Ice Rink. And when Lithe took them below, mentioning that there was a winged light that they had probably missed, the moth couldn’t wait any longer.

Jaws _aching_ , they opened wide and bit - nothing.

The moth stumbled, off-balance from the sudden lack of support. They looked up quickly to see Lithe a good distance away. He’d probably let go and slid away the second the moth had attacked.

They snarled, the sound echoing oddly through the water and ice. “ _Where are you going?_ ” the moth growled, stalking forward.

The white-caped Skylet eyed the lantern, and then his eyes settled on the moth’s face.

The moth wondered what he saw.

_Madness, surely._

“So you’re the one everyone’s talking about,” Lithe said, smoothly dodging a lunge from the moth. They overshot and dug their hands and feet into the ice, skidding to a stop. The moth could barely stop themself from lunging again. Lithe was clearly difficult to hit.

Instead, they snarled again. “ _I am,_ ” they roared, clutching their lantern in an attempt to steady themself. They were so hungry, and he was _right there_.

The need to eat clambered throughout the moth’s head, and they threw themself at the Skylet.

When Lithe hit the moth, they could feel their senses snap into nothingness.

They had enough time to feel relief, and then nothing more.


	3. I Am Milara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in so much pain rn and the venting is quite nice. I’d like to eat meat, but alas, no hot foods for at least a week, and solid foods... hnnnn.
> 
> Also sorry this one is a bit short, but it’s a pretty stupid scene anyway so whatever.

Lithe had figured something was off about the moth for a while.

It started with their first conversation, when the moth had let slip the fact that they didn’t need to collect spirits or winged lights. Intitally, he’d thought that maybe they were a veteran fresh out from Eden, and perhaps they’d dressed up like a moth for old time’s sake.

Except the moth’s stars never increased, and they were in the same outfit every time Lithe saw them after that. And - more importantly - they _acted_ like a moth, which was weird for a veteran.

So then he thought maybe the moth was a trickster of kind. Not all trickers were bad. They played pranks, true, but mostly they were benign folk who hardly did any damage at all. However, some were truly rotten. He’d heard of Skylets tricking moths into an early death, and what better way to get the trust of a moth than to look like them?

He really was interested in the moth, though - nameless and clearly unused to socializing, the moth was more than someone to keep an eye on.

Lithe quite liked the moth, and started to hope that maybe the moth was just odd in the way that individuals were odd. But when the moth finally accepted his invitation, they wouldn’t look him in the eye. And the lantern slung around the moth’s shoulders was something he’d never seen on them before.

Something was up, and when he felt the moth suddenly _move_ beneath the Ice Rink, he’d let go quickly and spun to face his companion.

He was shocked by what he saw.

The moth’s face was _desperate_. Something he’d seen on countless faces before, except those had been the faces of terrified, cornered Skylets who were staring death in her face for the first time. Why did the moth look so...

And then the moth spoke.

They had sounded taciturn, nervous, and even mildly annoyed before. But Lithe has never heard so much unchecked rage in the moth’s voice before. “ _Where are you going?_ ” the moth hissed, prowling towards Lithe with the stance of a killer.

A killer. Somehow, Lithe knew that this moth wanted him dead. And then he looked at the lantern, studied the moth’s face, and realized something.

”You’re the one everyone is talking about,” Lithe realized, dodging on autopilot as the moth took another swipe at him. This moth was the one who was - _eating_ people.

The moth growled, a feral sound that made Lither take a step back. “ _I am,_ ” the moth roared, and dashed at Lithe.

He dodged and knocked the moth with one swift motion, causing them to crumple to the floor. The sounds, muffled and distorted by the water and ice, seemed unnaturally loud to Lithe’s ears.

He rather thought that he might be in shock.

 _A moth is eating other Skylets,_ he thought numbly. _This moth has been murdering others for... months, now. Why? Why would they do such a thing?_

* * *

When the moth awoke, they felt calm for a moment.

And then, as the ache in their jaw reminded them of their hunger, they sat up straight, wildly looking around.

Lithe stood a few feet away, leaning against a pillar of ice. They were still beneath the Ice Rink. “So,” Lithe said, his expression and voice unreadable. “You tried to eat me.”

The moth stared at the Skylet for a long moment.

“ _Kill me,_ ” the moth said. They couldn’t quite rein in the guttural hiss that slipped through their words - the pain wouldn’t let them speak normally.

”What?”

The moth realized that they probably seemed like they were trying to be pathetic. It was sure to put anyone on their guard if a feral, mindless monster suddenly went meek and pleading. So the moth struggled to their feet and glared. “ _Kill me. That’s what you want, right? I’m sure that you, with all your friends and children, want me gone. I’ll eat them all if you don’t kill me._ ”

It was the most the moth had spoken without stuttering, but neither of them took notice. “If I don’t kill you,” Lithe said carefully, “Would you stop attacking people?”

The moth wanted to laugh. As if they _could_ stop. “ _No._ ”

Lithe nodded himself. “I don’t want to kill you.”

” _...oh?_ ” the moth replied, a cold anger rippling through their voice.

”So instead, I’m going to try and save you. And I’m very, truly sorry for what I’m about to do.” Lithe leapt forward without any warning, pressing two fingers to the stone in the moth’s stomach.

” **Milara** ,” he said, his voice soft but stern, “ **I name you.** ”

A soft light washed over the moth, who shook wildly at the unnatural sensation. Lithe had to hold them down, for their own safety, as they convulsed in fear.

Quite abruptly, it all stopped.

The moth shook once and lay still, eyes staring at the ceiling. ” _What..._ What did you do.”

”I named you.”

”What does that _mean_.”

”It means...” Lithe took a breath, then said, “It means that my light is your light, and yours will be mine. Until you name yourself, you are now Milara.”

Milara stared at Lithe, and then laughed, tears forming in their eyes.

”What a stupid idea,” the moth chuckled. “You want to save _me?_ Good luck!”


	4. I’m Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrote this multiple times because I had no idea where I was going with this. Eventually I just decided, “Screw it.”

It was hard, at first.

The naming had done nothing to ease the ache. And oh, how Milara _ached_ with every passing minute. What the naming had done, instead, was make their location even easier for Lithe to find. And he watched them closely, giving them no chance to sate their hunger.

He asked Milara what the hunger was. He asked if they had tried to eat other things, and tried to help the moth think of ways to stave off the pain.

Lithe was truly trying to help. Even Milara could see that much.

It just wasn’t enough.

* * *

”Why the lantern?” Lithe asked one day.

Milara looked at the Skylet. It was a bad day. They were sitting on the ground, but their whole body itched with need, and they were having a hard time forming words. “What?” they ground out.

Lithe cleared his throat. “What’s the lantern for? I’ve... heard things about you, but the lantern seems pretty difficult to obtain. Why bother with it?”

There was a moment of silence. Lithe was about to repeat his question, but then he realized that there was a thoughtful expression on the moth’s face, and he kept his mouth shut, waiting.

Eventually, Milara said, “I found it. I haven’t seen many others with it, so I thought it was special.” They took a deep breath. “And it’s useful.”

”Useful?”

”For hunting,” Milara clarified. They glanced at Lithe, gratified to see an uneasy look on his face.

They got to know each other better, between Milara’s lucid moments and cravings. Milara told Lithe about the hunger, and how nothing sated it save for eating. Milara explained their life, and all the things they’ve seen.

In turn, Lithe told them about himself. About how he has many, many friends, but he hardly sees any of them often. About how he’s been around for so long that he remembers a time when the land was smaller than it is today.

Sometimes, when Milara lay awake in the darkness and is feeling angry and bitter, they resent the fact that Lithe named them.

An identity was forced on them. And they hated it.

But they were wary of naming themself, and they didn’t know how to unname themself, so they were stuck as Milara - for now.

Lithe apologized for it, many times, but he wouldn’t explain how to undo it. Milara understood why, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

On good days, when the ache abated, Milara would lead Lithe through whichever realm they wished to travel. Milara could probably navigate all six realms blind if they needed to, which surprised Lithe greatly.

”Why do you hang around Forest?” Lithe asked one day.

Milara cocked their head, confused.

”I mean...” He seemed to struggle with the words before saying, “When you would... hunt... it was always in the Forest, right? And you seem to prefer it to anywhere else.”

It was a reasonable question. Milara thought it over for a moment.

”I hunted in the other realms, too,” they said finally. “But I suppose I favored Forest because it was so peaceful, with the rain and the darkness. And it was one of the safe realms, one where the young ones often were.”

They stood beneath a skull in Wasteland, peering out to keep an eye on the Dragons. Milara rather thought that Lithe looked as if he were going to be sick.

”Hey, do you plan on watching me for the rest of your life?” Milara asked.

Lithe looked at them in surprise. He nodded. “At least until we find a way to save you,” he said. “I won’t... say that what you did was good. But you were in genuine pain. And I think you’re a good person. So yes, I’m going to watch you for a while.”

”But what about when you go to Eden?”

”Well, I’ll probably take you with me.”

”I can’t go there.”

”Oh, sure you can, you just need to find enough winged lights to pass through the barrier.”

“I’ve tried that before,” Milara snapped. “I literally can’t get into Eden. The doors won’t even open for me.”

”...Truly?”

Lithe appeared to be rather shocked, and Milara could guess why. From what they’ve heard from others, Eden is the entire reason that Skylets exist. Within lies a huge storm, and countless lost souls lay within the ruins.

Once a Skylet has passed through, they are reborn, and their journey starts again.

Not Milara, though. They’ve been stuck in the same loop of anguish and hunger for their whole life, and they’re sure that’s not going to change any time soon.

”Yeah,” Milara said curtly. They started out from beneath the skull, adding, “It doesn’t matter though. Even if you go, you’ll still be able to find me again-“

”LOOK OUT!”

Three things happened very quickly.

First, Lithe yelled his warning, which was rather unnecessary as they were already flying into the bright blue beam of a Dark Dragon’s gaze.

Second, Milara let go of Lithe’s hand, dropping him unceremoniously into the sand.

Third, the Dark Dragon’s eye turned red, and it smacked into Milara, sending them into the side of a very hard and unforgiving rock.

Milara could hardly breathe as their winged lights burst out from the impact, fizzling into nothing as they struck the tar-like liquid. Within seconds, Milara realized that they were going to die.

”Milara!”

And then they did.


	5. I Am Something Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I suppose I should do some actual backstory and little bit of world-building at some point (not a whole lot, since Sky already exists, but some, because Milara is pretty much my own made-up child and I love them) but that can wait.
> 
> Onward with chapter 5!

Rumors are funny things.

It’s hard to say how they spread, with such an empty world such as Sky. There are plenty of Skylets, of course, but the world is vast enough that only a few happen to be in the same area at any given time.

But rumors spread regardless, and often they’re about dangerous beasts, new lands, and other such kinds of information.

Once, the moth heard a rumor about death before Eden.

It happens from time to time, where a Skylet manages to lose all their light before they’ve even stepped through the heavy stone gates. In those rumors, the moth has heard that a Skylet will awaken in a dark space, where a single light awaits them. And once they claim it for their own, they will find themselves at Home.

The rumor itself was about _where_ this dark space, the Dark Room as some call it, is actually located. Some say it doesn’t exist physically, and that it’s only a vision one sees upon dying. Others say it’s hidden somewhere, deep underground, and that a Skylet is brought there by some mysterious force.

The moth knew they weren’t an ordinary Skylet. Sometimes, when they get close to being drowned in the rain, or find themself cornered by crabs, they’ll wonder if the Dark Room is a place they’ll ever see.

Or if, for them, death would be - permanent.

 _Suppose I finally got my answer,_ the moth thought as they opened their eyes. All around them was a cold, empty darkness. And there, in the distance, stood a glowing spectre. A winged light.

They struggled to their feet, noting the lack of color in their skin. A side effect, probably, of being dead.

From what they heard, all they had to do was touch the winged light, and they would find themself back Home. And they had every intention to do just that.

Until, from somewhere even further than the light itself, the moth heard a voice.

” **Milara.** ”

It was Lithe’s voice, and he was using the same tone he’d used when naming them. It was probably just a precaution he was taking. A way to find them as soon as they were reborn, to prevent any quick... _snacks_ on their part.

And yet, the moth hesitated. The name still - irritated them, but that wasn’t what was bothering them. It was something about the way Lithe was calling them... or perhaps...

” **Milara?** ”

Or perhaps it was the circumstances the moth was in right now.

The moth turned towards the voice, towards _Lithe’s_ voice, feeling the faint echo of light and sound. The moth took a few steps, then felt a sort of resistance as they walked away from the winged light.

” _Where are you going?_ ”

The moth froze, then turned back toward the glowing spectre. The winged light hadn’t changed position, but somehow the moth felt it’s attention turn onto them.

” _Come back. Take me with you._ ”

This voice sounded like bells. Soft, delicate chimes that would float away on the lightest breeze.

But this voice came from a thing that the moth never knew could utter a sound, and so they stood still, staring in disbelief. After a long moment, the moth said, “I didn’t know you spoke.”

The voice was as calm as could be, but this time the moth thought they could hear soft laughter as it said, “ _Only me. The others are... tired._ ”

” **Milara?** ”

The moth drew closer, dismissing Lithe. “Why should I take you with me?”

” _How else will you leave?_ ”

”How else _can_ I leave?”

There was a moment of silence. The moth made as if to move away.

” _Wait._ ” The voice was sharper now. “ _If I tell you how to leave, you need to promise me something._ ”

”Promises are dangerous... what would you have me do, if I agree?”

” _Kill them._ ” As the moth listened, the chimes turned harsh, almost hissing through the syllables. “ _They’re the reason the Elders got rid of us._ ”

” **Milara?** ”

The moth ignored Lithe’s voice, asking, “Kill who? And... got rid of you? What do you mean?”

” _It’s their fault we were replaced... turned into nothing but stardust..._ ”

“ **Milara!** ”

”Oh, shut up!” the moth snapped, sending their light out in a sudden fit of annoyance. And then, quite abruptly, they found themself at Home, their hand in Lithe’s... and no cape to be found.

”Milara! I’m so glad you’re alright!” Lithe said, sweeping them into a hug.

The moth stiffened for a moment, then reluctantly relaxed.

”Hi,” they mumbled, thoughts churning.

* * *

Later, the moth shifted through every rumor they could think of.

This was quite difficult, since they didn’t know of many to start with. Between all the hunting and solitude, they weren’t exactly familiar with the rumors of Sky anymore. The moth managed by asking Lithe about the rumors of them, and then moving on to others.

Lithe even knew of a strange creature that could be summoned in a secret place within Prairie. But none of the rumors were about the winged lights, or of what the spectre had been speaking of. Finally, the moth asked directly, “Do you know anything about the winged lights?”

Lithe frowned. “I know where most of them are, but I forget a few. Why?”

”Well. I was just wondering about Sky. There’s so many things we take for granted. Why _don’t_ Skylets need to eat?” Milara saw Lithe’s face begin to fall, and hurriedly explained, “No, not like me... but, well, our ancestors once ate. And the fish, the plants, even the creatures of the light, they’re all so _alive._ Why are the Skylets different?”

”I don’t know. But how does this relate to the winged lights?”

”They make us stronger. And some have theorized that they’re ghosts or spirits of some kind. But where do they come from? And why is there always the same amount? And... and who would’ve had to... _die_... to create so many ghosts?”

Lithe looked at Milara sharply. “I’m sure you’ve added some,” he said.

”No, that’s the point! Skylets _don’t_ die. They might go through trauma, or be reborn without their memories - that happens more often than people know. But they don’t leave behind ghosts, because they’re still alive. So where did the winged lights come from?”

”...You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

”Well. I had to. I didn’t want to get caught, you know.”

”Too late for that.” Lithe paused. “Is that another reason why you pretended to be a moth? So that you’d be unrecognizable among the numerous other children?”

”Yes,” Milara admitted. They watched for the disgust to appear, but it never came.

For some reason, Lithe wanted to save them. And he truly wanted to, without any hate or anger. It was so odd.

“Well,” Lithe finally said, “I don’t know if anyone knows where the winged lights come from. It might just be a mystery that no one will ever solve.”

”Maybe,” the moth muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the dialogue of the spectre seems a little off, it’s because they’re completely bonkers. You’d be a little loopy yourself, wouldn’t you, after being alone in eternal darkness for so long?


	6. I May Have Made Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sort of sorry, and sort of not.

They felt sick.

 _Oh Eden, this is awful,_ the moth thought miserably, curled up beneath the roots of a tree.

Lithe had finally had to go to Eden. When Milara couldn’t even cross the threshold, he’d looked at them with a look akin to despair. He’d made the moth promise to try their best, but the moth has been holding out for... so long, by now.

They’d attacked the first Skylet they saw, a tiny grandfatherly figure with a blue cape. _Tastes bad,_ the moth had thought, but they hadn’t been able to stop eating.

And now... they were so nauseated.

_Feels bad, too._

“Oh... if all Skylets tasted like this, I’d have a much easier time keeping away from them,” the moth muttered. They glanced at the remaining portion of the Skylet, then decided against eating any more.

Maybe the problem was that they haven’t eaten in a while. Maybe they’d eaten too much at once - a whole arm and some of the shoulder - and now their stomach was far too upset to even feel full. The moth staggered to their feet, made it about as far as the roots sheltering them, then threw up in the grass.

“Ugh...” They wiped ichor and bile from their lips, hating everything. First, they suffered pain when they _didn’t_ eat, and then couldn’t even keep the damn food when they _did?_

Milara threw an accusing glare at the body lying behind them. Normally, they’d hide the body for later (Skylets don’t rot, they remain untouched unless some darkness comes along to corrupt them... which is a little creepy when they think too hard about it, so they don’t) but there’s no point, in this case.

The moth tilted their face to the sky, letting the rain wash away the grime as they closed their eyes. In moments, they found themselves at home.

The moth hefted their lantern.

It was time to name themself.

They wouldn’t have another chance. Lithe was _starving_ them. He’d never leave them alone again - he’d resist the call of Eden forever if he found out about their most recent meal.

They had to eat. They’d hold off for as long as they could, and not indulge like they did in the past... maybe. But they had to eat. Already, they could feel the ache in their teeth fading, tamed by whatever food was still left in them.

”What should I name myself?”

_If you have no ideas..._

“Oh, it’s you again,” the moth said. They looked down, where they could hear the voice. “You’ve been down there this whole time?”

 _Yes._ The voice, which was the same one that the winged light had spoken with in the Dark Room, came from the ground. The moth supposed that they’ve just discovered something that no one else ever has, but they were more concerned with the things the spectre was saying.

 _If you let me name you,_ the winged light continued, _You’ll still have a chance to name yourself later. You’re not sure yet, right?_

The moth hesitated.

No, they didn’t want to name themself without being certain. And it _was_ annoying that Lithe had pushed them into this. So from a certain perspective, the winged light was offering them an out.

On the other hand...

“Will you ask for something, if I considered letting you name me?” the moth asked.

_Yes. I want a promise from you._

It was probably the same promise the spectre had wanted last time.

”How about you tell me how to get back to you. Then we can talk some more.” The moth glanced around. “It feels pretty weird to talk to myself up here.”

The spectre sounded amused. _That’s easy enough. There’s an entrance at the sea floor, on the side where the island tapers off into the sand._

The moth eyed the water. “Mm. Skylets don’t swim, you see - they either float, or they float.”

_It’ll be fine. You’re not a Skylet - just push out all your breath and dive._

“I’m not a _what?_ ”

_...Were you not aware? I can explain it to you if you come down here._

The moth gaped at the empty air for a long moment, then laughed. “Of course. Okay, well, here goes.” They waded into the water, making sure their lantern was secure before jumping into the water.

They felt the usual buoyancy, but exhaled deeply and dove forward. And to their absolute shock, they slid smoothly beneath the water’s surface without much difficulty.

Skylets. Did. Not. Swim.

And so the moth floundered for a second, righting themself to take a breath of air. Come to think of it, did other Skylets even breathe?

They shivered.

The swim down was uneventful, and they found the opening easily enough. They surfaced in a dark cavern, the walls and ceiling shimmering in the dim light.

 _There’s a piece of wall that shines,_ the winged light spoke. _Touch it, and you’ll be through._

The moth followed their instructions. Almost instantly, they found themself in the dark room, the emptiness stretching away in all directions.

The winged light’s voice sounded much closer. _So,_ the winged light said. _Maybe I should tell you about the history of Sky. I might have been... a bit hasty, before._

“As long as you get to the part about why I’m not a Skylet,” the moth said, sitting down, “I’ll gladly listen to anything you have to say.”

The moth head soft snickering.

_Promises are dangerous._

* * *

“I... have a bad feeling.”

Cheveyo looked at Lithe. “It’s Eden. It would be strange you felt good.”

”Yeah, I just... Let’s get this done quickly,” Lithe said.

”Well, there go my plans of spending the entire day in this place,” Cheveyo muttered. “I can’t wait to get out of here. After this, we’re meeting that kid that you promised to introduce to me, right?”

”Yes.” Lithe sighed. “I hope they’re okay.”


	7. I Know What I Am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah for lore! Hurrah for being able to make up whatever I want!

_Sky was once known by no name at all. It was simply a place where we lived._

_It was a world of water and land. Oh, sure, some of the islands floated, and some of them stretched deep below the surface of the water, but we traversed all of this land without anyone to stop us. We were, after all, the only ones around at the time._

_And before, there were no clouds._

“No clouds? How did you get to the highest islands, then? And... did you _walk_ everywhere?”

_No, of course not. We rode the winds and waters whenever we traveled. Skylets are terrible at swimming... so much of this world is beyond their reach._

_But no, there were no clouds. Those were something the Elders brought, from when they fell. There were clouds in the skies, of course, and I suppose they brought the clouds with them because they simply couldn’t imagine living otherwise._

_The Elders could do wondrous things._

_Some even called them gods._

“Gods?”

_Hm... I wonder if Skylets have a word for it. Or maybe the Elders are their gods, and they’ve no need for any other word._

_For us, gods were... beings of wonder. We once saw them in the plants, the animals, the land, and the water. Miracles were found in nature. Foolishly, we thought the Elders were gods who had taken our own form._

“Why was that foolish?”

_We weren’t as careful as we should have been._

_They were quite large, you see, and always building. We never really built things. Our homes were temporary, if sturdy, things. Their homes were things that were meant to last forever. They built beautiful things. Cities, and boats, and temples. They carved light onto cave walls, and used strange rocks to power their creations._

_The Elders were wondrous beings. We could hardly speak to each other, but they noticed us, I think, in the way a Skylet takes notice of the birds. Everywhere, but harmless._

_And then..._

_The Elders changed. Or perhaps they hadn’t. You see, they were always building, and they never stopped. Have you seen the Wastelands?... They built so much on that once-golden sand..._

_There was never any oil or tar in this land. No darkness, either. And the creatures... Were not always hostile._

_But they built and built, and there was so much that they simply began to ruin the land._

_We couldn’t stop them._

_Still, we tried._

_We couldn’t speak with them, but we tried to. We tried so many times._

_I suppose they’d truly ignored us, until then. We were there first, but they couldn’t be bothered with us, could they? Until we started getting in their way, and so they finally studied us, and they discovered..._

_We have always eaten our kind. We are not cruel. We do not fight, but when we are hungry we know to avoid each other or end the other’s suffering. It has always been like that._

_They were horrified._

_They, who had destroyed so much of our land, who had been cast down from the skies and brought the clouds with them - they were horrified at US. Us, who were a peaceful folk._

“...What did they do?”

_The Elders turned us into stardust. Another one of their “miracles,” and I don’t know how they did it._

_It’s hard to say how long ago that was..._

_But, since then, they’ve created another people in our place. People who don’t breathe or hunger or speak._

“Skylets speak.”

_Do they truly? You can speak the way I do, you know. The - the Skylets speak with words, but we speak in chimes. We speak in the sounds of light, the way Skylets almost do but never can._

“...I didn’t realize. I don’t know if I can.”

_You understand me. No Skylet has ever been able to even hear me. You’re like me._

“What were our people called?”

_People. In our language of sound, we have only ever been people. Who else was there to name ourselves against?_

* * *

So. The moth wasn’t even a Skylet to begin with.

They were of a people who existed _before_ Skylets. The people that Skylets were modeled after, if their new companion was to be believed. They looked up at the spectre. “Will I still be able to hear once I touch you?”

_I think so. I can name you before you do so, if you wish._

“...What did you want me to promise?”

The spectre’s voice, which had been melancholy and sad, quickly hardened. _I want you to kill them. All the Skylets. The Elders are long dead, and their last creations are ruining Sky! They can’t be allowed to live!_

The moth blinked in surprise.

”I can’t... I can’t do that,” they said carefully. “Skylets aren’t ruining Sky. Really, they aren’t. They don’t build anything. They burn away the darkness and free creatures when they’re stuck. Most Skylets are quite kind.”

_You eat them._ The spectre’s voice wasn’t accusing, just confused, but it still hurt to hear.

“...I don’t have any other choice.”

_Then, promise to protect what’s left of our land’s wild places. If the Skylets try to build anything, stop them. If they try to bring the Elders back... as unlikely as that is, don’t let them._

“Are you okay with that?”

A sigh. _I can hardly convince you otherwise. Perhaps, if you take me along, I’ll be able to change your mind. I’m sure the Skylets aren’t as kind as you think their are._

“I have one more question.”

_Of course._

“How did I end up here? It’s been a long time since you - _we_ were gotten rid of, right? So how did I end up with the Skylets?”

_...I don’t know. Perhaps we can find out together._

The moth sighed. “Perhaps.”


	8. I Don’t Speak Skylet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly written as a vent fic, so I planned to abandon it when I wasn't feeling the need to vent anymore. But I'm glad that people liked it, so I decided to try continue. This chapter was written awhile ago, but I fixed it up a bit. The next chapter (whenever that might be) will probably feel different because of how it's been. Sorry about that.

_Hello,_ the child says, in a voice as soft as light. _Hello. How are you?_

There is a long silence. The child reaches out to the spectre, close to but not touching the golden light that makes up its form. _Hello,_ the child says, in a language that no Skylet could understand.

And the spectre speaks back.

 _Hello,_ it says, almost inaudible. _I’m so glad you’re alive._

The child smiles. _Me too._ There were others who couldn't speak. _Would you like to come with me?_

_...No need to ask._

_But if I ask,_ the child says, not moving closer or away, _then you might be able to travel with me._

 _I won’t be able to see anything._ The spectre’s voice is sad. It almost crushes the child with its sorrow, but the child has felt it so many times before. _I won’t be able to feel anything. It will be you - and then back here, again, until you come for me._

 _If I ask permission,_ the child says, _you can come with me._

And slowly, the spectre turns. The figure of light looks at the child properly, the first thing the spectre has looked at that isn’t the sky, and it sees the warm, pulsing lights that follow the child. Fairy lights, almost, and there are _so many._

The spectre almost exhales in relief.

 _Oh._ It moves again, in minuscule movements, until it is looking at the sky again. _Of course. Of course. How could I say no?_

And the child reaches out and cradles the light, a formless, lovely light that warms to their touch. The light’s voice murmurs in their mind, joining the twinkling of sound that comes from the lights themselves.

The child smiles. _There’s more to go,_ the child says, and that sets the lights clammering for attention.

The lights are happy to no longer be alone. They want revenge. They want to see the sky and land and water again. They want death and life and light. And the child is going to give them everything.

* * *

Light blue and pale beige.

Pure black with no mask or hair.

Purples and blues and a gold amulet.

The monster has been having eyewitnesses recently, and when Lithe asks around, the only connection between any of them is the lantern the child was holding.

Not a monster, he thinks to himself. A moth. His friend. Milara. Although none of those names belong to that person, not anymore - the only name they seem to go by anymore is _monster_ , and it hurts to think about it.

He _did_ kind of force the friendship, after all. Too late for that, though. He might never find them again.

”You’re lost in your head again,” Cheveyo says, and Lithe looks at Cheveyo, registering the deep green cape that Cheveyo had put on.

“Who are you today?” he asks, and it still feels rude, but Cheveyo had told him to ask instead of ogle, so that’s what he did.

"She.”

Lithe nods. “I still feel like I failed them,” he says, answering Cheveyo’s previous question. “Milara... I’m really grateful you’re helping me, but they could be anywhere...”

”I haven’t seen you get this riled up in forever,” Cheveyo says calmly.

Lithe sighs.

”Not since the... tricksters became a problem.”

He knows where this is going...

”You probably don’t have a plan this time, either.”

“Not really,” he says mildly. “Do you?”

”No. But one of us should figure out a plan at some point, other than following rumors.”

* * *

There is a call. A child is calling out to him.

The Skylet turns to see another child running up to them, out of breath. He smiles, then sees the lantern in the child’s hands. His smile freezes.

 _The monster has a lantern._ And this child... also has a lantern.

The child smiles and pulses with light, and they sound so apologetic that, for a moment, the Skylet almost forgets his fears. The child opens their mouth, but the Skylet hears only bells.

Maybe this child is too nervous to speak? The Skylet clears his throat. _“_ I’m Indra,” he says. “Who’re you?”

The child smiles and draws closer. Bells and chimes fall out of the child’s mouth, but the child doesn’t speak. The lantern glows, and Indra takes a step back. “Hey,” he says, but his voice shakes, and the child seems to hear it.

The smile looks... sharper, now. And the child won’t stop coming closer.

This is _wrong_ , Indra shouldn’t have to fear other Skylets. He shouldn’t have to be afraid of his own people! But he can’t take his eyes off of the lantern. “Stay away,” he says, and then he feels his back hit the cliff behind him.

The child cocks their head.

And then they bare their teeth _\- Eden, why are there so many teeth -_ and lunge.

Indra flies upward, desperately trying to avoid the child, but then he feels a hand grab his leg and he crashes to the ground.

It hurts, it hurts - something golden spills across his vision as he _screams_.

The child smiles and speaks. Although the Skylet can’t hear them, the child whispers, _“Thank you for the meal.”_


End file.
